


Jaws Theme Swimming

by cinnamon_skull



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Body Worship, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is insecure, M/M, Praise Kink, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_skull/pseuds/cinnamon_skull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim comforts Jason after he has a bad day. Bath tubs and Darth Vader showerheads are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jaws Theme Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> I have a thing for water, I guess. These two dorks get it on in the sweetest of ways.

It’s late when Tim pushes open the window to Jason’s apartment. This time, it’s an actual apartment, not a rundown safe house two floors above a strip club like usual. There might have been a time when that wouldn’t have mattered much to Tim, but a lot has changed in the past year.

Having unrestricted access to a place that Jason calls home — well, that’s something special.

Tim slips off his boots so he doesn’t drag dirt across the wooden floor and tugs off his gauntlets, leaving them in a messy pile on the kitchen counter. The apartment is silent and dark, and he thinks Jason is probably out patrolling or sleeping.

“Jay?” he tries anyway, because he’s a sucker for catching Jason off-guard and sleepy. His voice gets all gravelly after he just wakes up and his body is always so pliant and warm under Tim’s hands.

The post-patrol adrenaline is still pumping through Tim’s veins, making him feel light-headed and happy, especially with the prospect of surprising Jason—it’s rare that Tim has such a good opportunity.

He cocks his head and listens, but there’s no answer.

Tim is down to his boxers when he’s halfway down the hall to Jason’s bedroom. He’s just slinking past the bathroom when he hears the water turn on.

The bathroom door is open, but there’s no light coming from within. As he moves closer, Tim can see the hazy orange glow emanating from a street light outside the tiny bathroom window, but nothing else is visible, even with Tim’s decent night vision.

The door jam is cool and smooth when Tim places his cheek against it. He can hear the sound of water flowing into a partially filled tub and the faint sound of skin rubbing against tile.

“Jay?” Tim calls out quietly when the water stops.

No answer.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Tim asks, his mind sifting through the details like a case file. “Did the light bulb burn out?”

Jason doesn’t say anything for a long time. Tim can hear him shift slightly in the water, and he’s almost worried for a moment that Jason came back from patrol injured. Then finally, a raspy, “No,” travels up from the darkness.

“I’m going to come in and turn on the light now, Jay,” Tim says in the same soft tone, feeling along the wall until his fingers slide against the switch. “Okay?”

There’s the water sound again, like Jason is shifting restlessly. Tim isn’t exactly sure what he’s walking into, but he has a pretty good idea. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Okay.”

Tim hates how thin Jason’s voice sounds, and it makes the inside of his chest feel brittle. But he squares his shoulders and takes a breath before flicking on the light, because if Jason needs him to be brave right now, that’s what he needs to be.

Jason is sprawled out in the tub, eyes shut and face angled down, toward the water. A gun is sitting on the floor outside the tub within arm’s reach, but Tim knows it’s there because it makes Jason feel safe.

“Rough day?” Tim asks, sliding down to his knees and giving Jason a warm smile.

Jason’s eyes flutter like he’s fighting not to look at Tim with his voice so close and soft, but he only makes a non-committal sound low in his throat.

“Hey,” Tim says suddenly, because he can’t turn off his inner detective this quickly coming off patrol. “Where’s Darth Vader?”

He is, of course, talking about the Darth Vader showerhead that Alfred brought him earlier in the summer as a birthday present. The story of how it got to Jason’s apartment is long — the most important thing being that it started with a bet, and well, Tim doesn’t lose bets.

Jason’s eyes snap open to stare at the place where Darth used to hang his helmet. “Oh, I didn’t even notice—”

“Jason, where is he?” Tim says in his best Batman voice.

“It’s like he’s crying every morning, Tim!” Jason says, running his hands through his thick, wet hair. “That’s not normal.”

Tim hides a smile in his forearm resting against the tub’s ledge. “So you did throw him away?”

Jason sighs, defeated. “He’s safe. His creepiness is in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Okay.” It takes a lot of effort, but Tim refrains from checking. He makes a mental note to check later, just to be safe.

“Jay,” he says quietly, turning his eyes back on Jason.

Jason turns his head to stare at the wall. “What?”

Tim brushes his fingertips against the crease in Jason’s forehead, rubbing gently until he relaxes. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, pretty bird.”

Tim cups Jason’s face in his hands, tilting his chin up so that he can see those striking blue eyes. The ones that had stunned him into silence the first time they’d met through the lens of his camera. “I do worry.”

“Well,” Jason says, shifting again and splashing water up onto Tim’s elbows. “Don’t.”

“Too late,” Tim says fondly, before pushing off the tub and shucking off his boxers. Jason only just figures out what he’s about to do, but there isn’t enough time to stop him.

“Tim, wait—”

With the same careless determination he uses on the streets, Tim’s stepping into the tub and straddling Jason’s legs before dropping himself into the warm water.

Jason’s distressed sounds echo off the tiles as water spills over the edge, and the temperature change makes Tim’s skin break out in goose bumps. He’s not delusional enough to deny that it’s only partly due to the sudden heat.

Mostly it’s being so close to Jason.

He’s perched a little awkwardly on Jason’s thick thighs, leaning in with his arms wrapped around Jason’s neck for balance. “Oops,” he says, staring at Jason through fluttering lashes.

“This tub is not big enough for two grown men!” Jason groans, but his fingers at Tim’s hips are drawing him closer.

“Well that’s a relief,” Tim grins. “Good thing we’re just a couple of Robins.”

“Tim.”

“What?” Tim knows his innocent tone is ruined by the way he presses his hips down, grinding closer to the heat radiating from between Jason’s legs.

Spending time in the shower together is nothing new. In fact, their last time had ended with Jason on his knees, sucking Tim off beneath the warm shower spray.

But this is different.

Jason is so exposed and vulnerable beneath his fingers, and it feels a thousand times more intimate than all those other times. Tim shudders at what it means, how far they’ve come that he can sit like this with someone he used to consider an enemy.

But that’s not true, not really. Tim has always been willing to give Jason as many chances as needed to prove them all wrong.

“You complaining?” Tim asks.

A muscle in Jason’s jaw jumps, but he doesn’t say anything. His fingers are still digging into Tim’s hips, and he knows he’ll have bruises in the morning.

“Look at me,” Tim whispers, gently. His fingers curl into the damp hair at the back of Jason’s neck. He wants to press his chest against Jason’s, feel the slick slide of their skin with only the bathwater between them.

Slowly, Jason’s eyes rise to meet his, and Tim sees some kind of struggle dimming their beauty. It’s not a look he likes to see, but it’s not entirely unfamiliar, either.

“What’s wrong?” Tim runs his fingers down Jason’s neck, and then traces the powerful line of his shoulders.

“I’m just,” Jason puffs out a long sigh of air. “Tired.”

Tim understands without needing to hear the words. He leans in until their foreheads are touching. “Then let me take care of you.”

“You don’t have to—”

Tim pulls back to glare. “I told you, I want to.” His fingers sink through warm water until he finds Jason’s hands and softens his voice when he says, “I want you.”

Jason looks like he wants to protest or push Tim away, but he doesn’t. He needs it, Tim realizes, gasping sharply at the thought. Needs to hear the words to pull him back from the dark places of his mind.

Tim isn’t frightened by the prospect. He needs it, too.

There’s a faint pressure in his palm as Jason squeezes lightly with his thumb. It sparks him into motion, and he doesn’t hesitate to lower his head and capture Jason’s lips in a sweet kiss.

It’s slow, almost painfully so, but perfect in its fragility. Tim thinks about all the bad things that brought them here. There are a lot of things he regrets, people he wishes he could have saved, all the damage he was too slow to stop.

Tim could drown in the pain of it all, the suffocating weight of his guilt. The feeling wells up from his chest, an inarticulate expression of yearning tickling the back of his neck, reminding him that Jason was almost the best thing that never happened to him. But Jason’s warm and hard underneath him, and it’s difficult to think about everything at once, so he stops trying.

He sighs into Jason’s mouth instead, kissing him as though he’s been waiting to do it all this time, as though his only purpose has always been to bring Jason pleasure. Their lips melt together softly, a little wet and very warm, feathers floating together on a summer breeze.

And then Tim nips a little at the corner of Jason’s mouth, and he pulls back to whimper. “Tim.”

Tim takes it as an invitation to kiss along Jason’s jaw, sucking his skin into his mouth right where his neck meets his shoulder. He kisses his way back up, trailing his mouth over Jason’s chin and his cheek.

While his lips dance across the bridge of Jason’s nose, his hands wander down, across Jason’s broad chest and over the ridges of his stomach. He doesn’t even feel the raised scars or twisted skin — those marks are so much a part of Jason, that Tim had long ago stopped paying them any mind at all.

“Will you,” Jason whispers out, but his neck is bent back across the tub’s edge and his eyes are squeezed shut. “Just — Tim. Please.”

Tim doesn’t know what Jason’s asking, not really. The fact of the matter is that Jason probably doesn’t either. But Tim could never deny him anything, so he presses himself down harder, wrapping his arms around Jason and pulling him close enough that their chests are touching.

“I want you,” Jason grits out, still not looking. “God, if you could feel — you don’t even know, do you?”

Tim drags his hands down Jason’s chest again, making him shiver. One open palm settles over the skin of Jason’s heart, and Tim can feel every shaking breath and wild pulse. “I know, Jay.”

One of Jason’s hands fists into Tim’s hair, but he doesn’t apply any pressure, just let’s his fingers tangle in the silky strands. “You can’t,” and Tim can hear Jason swallow; can see the muscles work in his throat. “There aren’t even words—”

“Show me, then.” Tim leans back into Jason’s hand, shivers at the wet slide of his fingers down his nape.

Jason’s head snaps up and Tim can finally see his eyes. They’re bright again, burning and hungry. He still looks like he’s struggling with something, but he’s more in control, fighting.

“Or, I can show you,” Tim decides, his voice thick and catching. He doesn’t care, though, because Jason is under him, wanting.

“Tim,” Jason pleads.

Tim moves like his limbs are wired to the sound of his voice.

It takes a moment for Tim to maneuver himself in the small tub, but he’s able to bend low enough to kiss the hard curves of Jason’s hipbone, sucking in skin and leaving behind small bouquets of forget-me-nots.

“You’re so good,” Tim praises, massaging the thick, powerful muscles of Jason’s thighs. He rubs his palms up and down, hooking his thumbs into the grooves of his straining tendons. It’s been awhile, but Tim’s seen what these thighs can do in action, how perfect and dangerous they are in the field.

Jason pulls on his arm, and Tim comes up easily, kissing him full on the mouth. His tongue is pressing deep into Tim’s mouth like he can’t get enough of his taste. Beneath the water, Tim can feel Jason’s hardness against his spread thigh.

“Can I?” Tim breathes into Jason’s mouth. “Please, Jay, I — ”

“God, yes,” Jason pants, his hands finding their way back to Tim’s hips and stroking the soft skin there. “Anything you want, Tim — always.”

They’re kissing again, open and wet, as Tim ghosts his fingers back down Jason’s stomach to rest just before the hot jut of his cock. He teases a little, rubs against the ridges of his muscles and presses against a particularly nasty scar until Jason shivers, breaks apart underneath him, moaning, pleading.

Finally, Tim’s hand slides down Jason’s cock, but his hold is not nearly as tight as they both want.

“Yes.” Jason’s hand wraps around Tim’s fingers, guiding his touch, slowly increasing pressure with a gentle squeeze. “I want you so much, Tim, I want— ”

“Good,” Tim gasps out and throws his head back, feeling his own arousal spike at the sight of Jason’s hand wrapped around his own, guiding his movements. “Show me how you want it, Jay.”

Jason makes a low, rough sound that echoes off the tile, and Tim feels it in his bones. This is Jason losing control and pulling himself free from everything.

When Tim forces his eyes away from Jason’s pretty cock, the look on his face is so sweet and open, framed by flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

This is what love looks like, Tim thinks, and then stops, because it’s almost too much, the way Jason looks so tangled up with need. Their hands are moving up and down his cock, stroking in wonderful unison.

Tim moves his hips, aligns his body so that his cock is sliding next to Jason’s, and then Jason is taking both of them in his heavy palms. They moan into each other’s mouths as their bodies make love, like they have a thousand times, like there won’t be another thousand.

Jason opens his mouth, lets out a hoarse cry and comes, staring into Tim’s eyes even as he looses himself so completely in the pleasure. Two more strokes and Tim follows, pressing down into Jason and trapping their hands in the dirty water.

There isn’t any sound but their shallow breathing for some time. Jason pulls Tim closer, wraps his arms around him and pushes his nose into his neck. “Tim, I just, there are so — ” Jason struggles and then goes quiet.

“Thank you,” he says, finally.

Tim kisses him everywhere his lips can reach, because sometimes words aren’t enough for Jason.

“I’m starting to prune,” he hums into Jason’s shoulder, after a while. “It’s not pretty.”

Jason smiles against his skin, his hands still skimming through Tim’s hair. “You’re always the prettiest thing in any room.”

But he starts to sit up anyway, pushing Tim gently. Slowly, they make their way out of the tub, still sharing gentle kisses, hands still wandering across damp skin.

Jason grabs a towel from the floor and Tim laughs, because of course Jason has a Wonder Woman bath towel. “Would you rather it be The Flash or something?”

“Hmm, I was thinking Nightwing,” Tim jokes and Jason snaps the towel at his ankles.

They take turns drying off and when Jason has Wonder Woman slung low on his hips, Tim really, really doesn’t mind it.

“Come on,” Jason says and smiles at Tim, fond and perfect.

Tim follows, and then steals quickly back into the bathroom. He lifts Jason’s gun from the floor and when he releases the magazine, it’s empty.

Baby steps, Tim thinks, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow cinnamonskull/jayskull for more wonderful jaytim things. : )


End file.
